Bad Ideas

This is a bad idea. 

Like, lose your job, your reputation, and get kicked out onto the street kind of a bad idea. But everytime Yeji moans into your mouth, desperate little pleas to -fuck, right there, don’t stop, please- you could give a damn about your job.

Run it back an hour or two; there’s the post concert buzz, a hotel room, a couple of drinks, and a too long tour stretch that has you all itching to do something slightly stupid. All things that collude to have you sitting on the floor of Yuna’s room spinning a beer bottle in a group of overly repressed, gorgeous women.

Like strip poker, everyone sits around pretending to care about the game when you’re all just going to end up naked by the finale anyway. The game, it’s just premise, everyone knows where it’s going but it’s a facade, a vehicle to get you all drunk enough for someone to have the balls to say the really spicy shit. On this particular occasion, supplied by Ryujin’s big mouth and shit-eating grin;

“Ooh drummer boy,” as the bottle points its north at you. “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare,” so she doesn’t immediately ask if you’ve got a crush on anyone in the group. She knows you do, everyone does. She’s got this cheshire smile that has your brain immediately flashing warning signs at your professionalism. 

“Dare you to give Yeji a hickey.”

Shit. 

Two of the other girls gasp like they didn’t know Ryujin was the biggest shit stirrer in the room, or that they didn’t know you and Yeji both liked each other but were too cowardly, read as professional, to do anything about it.

Lia has her hands over her mouth in faux-shock, Yuna is grinning openly, Chaery is off in the corner nursing an injury and talking to her new boy toy on the phone, and Ryujin is staring directly at her leader, gauntlet thrown. Yeji for her part, is opening her mouth and closing it again in alternating attempts to tell Ryujin to go fuck her self and telling you you don’t have to do that.

“That feels like more of a dare for her than me,” trying to buy yourself time to think of a way to give Yeji an out. Unfortunately for you, your brain was completely on board with the idea and wasn’t providing your mouth with any other constructive output.

“Oh, I don’t think she’ll mind,” Ryujin drawls, staring down the other girl who was blushing furiously, and very prettily your mind unhelpfully adds. “Unless she’s too scared, of course, and refuses to play by the rules? Such a good example to set from our fearless leader.”

The bait is obvious, veneer thin at best, but if there’s one thing Ryujin is good at other than being an idol, it’s pushing Yeji’s buttons.

“No- no I’m not saying I won’t-,” Yeji stutters, “You know we can’t get caught with anything like that. The fans would kill us, let alone the company.”

Bait thrown, trap closed, Ryujin’s grin might actually split her face in half, “Well then I guess you’ll just have to get it somewhere no one can see, won’t you?”

So here you are, standing at the foot of Yuna’s bed, staring at Yeji, trying not to think about the other four girls outside the locked door pretending not to be listening. 

“Where- umm, I mean how-”

“It just can’t be anywhere they’ll see,” she says again, like saying it again is going to solve that fucking problem right now. 

You run through a mental map of everywhere her various stage outfits cover and try to think about how the fans will be taking photos and videos of her in every possible angle and slow motion. Take into account any candids or wardrobe malfunctions and the list of places you can possiblyleave a hickey is terrifyingly, brilliantly tiny. 

The problem is one of consent, though not in the traditional sense. Yeji had practically dragged you into the room and regardless of how far Ryujin baited her into it, she would not be here if she wasn’t fully ready to go through with this. The problem is that it was up to her where the hickey would be, up to you to deliver it, and she wasn’t being very forthcoming with ideas on the location front. 

“What if-” you clear your throat, trying to dislodge the enormous butterfly that had taken up residence in the top of your chest, “What if i just kiss you somewhere and if I get to a spot that you think is good you let me know.”

She’s nodding, eyes locked on your lips and rosey cheeked. Fuck, alright, we’re doing this.

You push her hair back behind her ear and lean in to press your lips against her neck under her lobe. To be honest, you know that’s not going to be where she agrees to it but it’s an obvious place to begin this absurd task, and you have to start somewhere. 

“Not- not there,” she’s mumbling, breath hitching slightly and you’re whispering I know, I know as you switch to the other side, kissing the warm skin on the left as if that was a better option. 

The end game is apparent, inevitable and unmistakable; there is nowhere on her body you can leave a hickey that is not currently covered by clothing. You both know you’re going to have to do something about that, but it feels more natural to work up to it, and the girl with one hand fisted in your shirt and one hand pulling the back of your neck down to her chest doesn’t seem to mind the wait. Your hands slip around her waist to pull her closer against you, it makes more sense that way, you have to be close to kiss her after all, just logistics.

You’re working your way down her neck to her bare shoulder, trailing faint moisture from your lips to her collarbone, the halter style top doing absolutely nothing in protecting her from your exploration. Not that she seems to be complaining. Yeji is humming -mhmm, yep, aha- sounds of assent probably in regards to your actions not to the location, not yet. They’re an audible bee’s dick away from openly moaning, both hands in your hair now, and you've obliterated the thought of anyone else in the apartment from your minds.

You push her gently, the back of her knees hitting the edge of the bed and you're following her down to the mattress. You disengage long enough for her to shuffle up the bed and she’s got her hands out in a grasping motion like if she doesn't have your body back on hers she might actually die.

Not needing to be asked that more than, or even, once you're climbing up her body, kissing her the slip of skin at her stomach between her skirt waistband and her top. The offending cotton pushed up out of the way of your kisses, and you’re kissing her navel, her abs, the side of her waist. You’re doing a frankly horrific job at trying to finish this truth or dare game in any timely manner, but when Yeji lifts her back off the bed to help you pull her top over her head, you don’t seem to find it in yourself to care. 

No bra; that’s what stops you in your tracks, at least until Yeji arches her back and pushes her chest out to you when you’re rude enough to not pay it enough immediate attention. Lips to her sternum, mouth on the inside of one breast, kisses on the other, tongue swiping along the hardened nub of her nipple. If you thought you were fucked before, the way she’s openly moaning into the top of your head has you completely destroyed. 

Your teeth latch on to her nipple, biting lightly and you try to vaguely remember what you were here for. It’s actually the first place you've touched thus far that might qualify as ‘somewhere no one can see’ but she’s writhing and mumbling no, no, please more so you move on, partially regretfully.

A few more swirls of your tongue over each of her mounds and you reverse course, kissing your way back down her stomach to the aforementioned waistband of her skirt. This is uncharted territory, a line in the sand you really can’t come back from, as if you could anymore. Confirmation required, a slight glance up her lithe frame and you see her biting her bottom lip and nodding, so you hook her fingers into her skirt and start to tug, never stopping work with your mouth along the v-line of her abs the entire time.

She lifts her hips and the skirt pulls free, you follow it down, kissing her hip, the edge of black lace panties, the top of her thigh and down the length of creamy white skin. The skirt gets thrown off into the distance to join the crumpled top and the last of your resolve. You’re less kissing her now than consuming the expanse of her smooth legs, thighs and hips. She is soaked and you’re hungry, so you dive into the tiny space between her heat and her thigh.

“There- oh fuck, right there,” Yeji’s whimpers and you’re unsure if she actually remembers the point of what you’re doing or she’s just coaxing you on for selfish reasons. Regardless, you interpret it as the best choice of some very great choices and hone in on the chosen spot.

If you were being fair to Yeji’s state of being, you are blatantly cheating at this point, unapologetically so. You've got one thumb on the drenched core of her underwear, coaxing small circles while your lips lock down. You suck, grip, bite, pull on the sensitive skin until you’re sure she’s either going to rip your hair out of your head or there will be a beautiful purple blemish there tomorrow. Whichever comes first. 

Job done, you should get up, go back outside and high five all the girls for winning the stupid game, to wipe the smug grin off Ryujin’s smug fucking face if nothing else. You should. You really, really should. But the bad ideas are in the driver's seat and you hesitate, hovering slightly over her sex, breathing hard and battling demons.  You didn’t stand a chance.

“Yej-” you start.

“Yes, fuck, please plea-,” she cuts you off, completely unneeding of the question you meant to ask, her legs opening slightly wider, invitation clear as day.

Black lace pulls to the side and pink tongue on pink folds cuts her off in return, back arching off the bed with a gorgeous sounding moan.  The taste of her explodes in your mouth and you’re addicted; fuck the game, the job, the consequences, you need this like you need air. 

Yeji cries out when you lick up the length of her slit then suck down on her clit as she squirms, twirling the nub around in your mouth. You wrap one arm around her thigh and bring your other hand up to tease her entrance with your fingers and she starts bucking down on you. It seems like she’s trying to lift herself off the bed to get away and grind herself down on your face at the same time, a gymnastic attempt to get you to finish her off. 

You oblige. One finger then a second into her sopping wet cunt, pumping them back and forth as gently as your resolve will allow but the real finale comes when you curl them up inside her, a conductor in parallel with the way she arches off the bed. You’re tonguing the bead of her clit like your life depends on it, trying to hold her down and let her fly all at once. 

Yeji’s whole body stiffens and the silence of her cut off cry is damningly loud as she comes undone. You lap at her folds throughout it all, fingers crushed as she clamps down on you and you're trying not to miss any of the exquisite nectar that’s gushing out of the poor woman.

She goes still and relaxes back into the bed, twitching slightly as you kiss and nip at her pussy in the aftershocks. For a long moment no one moves, but a slight tug on your hair pulls you up level with her again. She’s sweating, a beautiful sheen covering her top to tail but you kiss her chest, her neck and her jaw anyway, you don't care, you’re all in. She grabs your face and tastes herself on your lips, admittedly an odd way to have your first proper kiss. 

She’s got one hand behind your neck and the other rubbing herself lightly, back of her knuckles brushing the front of your sweats at the same time. She feels you, diamond hard and throbbing even through your pants, you’re only human after all and you’ve never been this turned on in your life.

Your eyes meet, like they had anywhere else to go with your forehead resting on hers and she’s nodding again -yes, please, of course baby- all words unspoken and unnecessary. She’s pulling your shirt off as your pants come down of your own accord, your cock springing free.

“Oh- oh fuck,” her eyes are blown wide and a grin spreads across her face. Yeji wraps a hand around you and strokes experimentally a few times, there’s really no need, no recourse for it; she’s still soaking wet and you could not possibly be harder if you tried. 

She does most of the work, lifting herself slightly, aiming you for you, and nudging her own entrance with your cockhead. The rest of this tango is yours and you’ll dance if it's the last thing you do, you sheathe yourself to the hilt in one go and she fucking breaks.

Yeji moans into your mouth, you’re panting into hers and it’s a heavenly feeling of her cunt pulling you in deeper and gripping you tightly enough to not let you go at the same time. Over and over, you bottom out inside her. You want to say you fucked her all night, you want to say it was hours of manly, testosterone-fueled fucking but you were unsurprisngly and shockingly close already. 

Fortunately for your pride, the feeling seems mutual, Yeji is wrapping her legs around you, drawing you in deeper, rutting into you, and scratching her perfectly manicured nails up your back. Lucky you're not the one that needed to keep the marks hidden. 

“Yej-”

“Wait, not yet, not -oh fuck- not inside, not yet I’m- close,” she’s babbling and asking way too much of your already stretched stamina but you get your hands under her, gripping her hips and perfect ass, pounding until she clamps down on you again. If you thought she was tight around your fingers, she’s a vise around your cock and she screams as she comes apart.